


It’s in the Past

by san_shui



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Catherine is the second mum, Character Death, Forgiveness, Friendship, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Mum!Jane Seymour, Pain, Panic Attacks, The Tudors - Freeform, This friendship is underrated, henry viii sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24283525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/san_shui/pseuds/san_shui
Summary: May 19th – the day Anne Boleyn was beheaded. Jane comforts Anne through it, but not without feeling bad as well (for a different reason).
Relationships: Anne Boleyn & Jane Seymour, Catherine of Aragon & Jane Seymour
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	It’s in the Past

**Author's Note:**

> TW: death, pain, angst, blood, panic attack
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own SIX nor The Tudors
> 
> Aragon – Catherine  
> Parr – Cathy
> 
> The beginning is mainly from the TV show The Tudors (kinda recommend, kinda don’t; it’s rated MA for a reason also not everything is historically accurate)
> 
> Also, I read somewhere that Jane felt guilty over Anne’s death and thought herself as a murderer. Not sure if that’s entirely true . . . But that’s what this is kinda based off of. I’m sorry I forgot where I read that from, I can’t find it!
> 
> This friendship is kind of underrated and I love angst with these two.
> 
> Sorry if there are some errors, I didn’t really proof read it (yet again, almost all my writings have some mistakes).

_The queen was staring out the window, her tears already dried from crying hours earlier. She hadn’t slept. Not since her brother’s execution two days prior. If she had, then chances were she cried herself to exhaustion._

_She didn’t want to die, especially not like this. Who would?_

_She tried to reason with him, but of course the court deemed her guilty of the accusations._

_Treason._

_Adultery._

_Incest._

_Then the King blamed her giving birth to a daughter instead of a son_ ( _which was_ completely _out of her control –_ but they didn’t know that back then).

_Oh, what was to happen to her daughter? Her “précieux trésor.” She didn’t want to leave her child, her three year old baby girl. What would become of her without her mother by her side?_

_She was broken from her thoughts at the sounds of the doors unlocking. The brunette turned her head to see two guards standing at the doorway._

_“Your Majesty,” one guard bowed his head._

_The woman steeled herself for what was to come. She glanced back out the window then back to the men and nodded, then slowly walked towards them._

_The beating sounds of both guards’ boots and the clicking of her heels against the pavement echoed through the cold, empty stone tunnels. The closer they got, the more terrified she was, but she wouldn’t dare show it._

_They finally approached the area. The crowd were shouting and trying to touch her (some did), but she moved forwards._

_Ever so elegantly, she stepped up to the platform, meeting the executioner’s eyes who apologetically nodded in sympathy. No sword in sight. She didn’t know if that calmed her nerves or worsened it._

_After she made her speech, she dropped down to her knees in a prayer position._

_“God have mercy on my soul,” the Queen repeated to herself._

_“Boy, bring me my sword!” The swordsman shouted._

_She turned her head forward, eyes scanning the crowd, but no boy nor a sword in sight._

_Distracted, the woman didn’t noticed the blade swinging in the air until–_

Anne gasped, shooting herself straight up in her bed. Her skin was beaded with sweat, her hair stuck to her forehead, her heart beating rapidly, and her breathing was shaky and short. But her neck.

Her scar ached and itched as if it was on fire. Anne immediately ripped off her choker, throwing it on the floor. She then clawed at her neck in hopes to stop the itching, but to no avail. She scratched and scratched, unaware of the blood dripping onto her fingers.

Her mouth was open, but she was too focused on the pain to know if she was screaming or crying, or both. Her mind was disoriented, switching between the past and present.

Hell, her scar hurt so much! She couldn’t calm herself as her panic rose. She began to grow lightheaded, breathing now impossible.

Suddenly, the slam of a door announced itself as Jane Seymour bursted into the girl’s room.

Jane heard the sobs outside from her room, instantly knew why, and hastened towards her. Though, she was hesitant to go in because she was partly to blame for Boleyn’s death and didn’t think that Anne would want to see her.

Ever since Boleyn’s beheading, she carried that guilt for the rest of her life, including this new life. It was the first thing that struck her when she and Anne met for the first time during their reincarnation. She tried to apologize then, but Boleyn would find ways to avoid her. Though to be fair, everyone wasn’t comfortable with each other at first, so Jane didn’t blame the girl if she was on edge around her (at least it wasn’t as bad as Boleyn and Aragon when they would argue 24/7). So the subject was never mentioned again, but Jane still felt guilty, maybe even more.

The thumping of footsteps broke her from her trance, and spun around to see the other queens arriving. Kat in front, Anna, Catherine, then Cathy.

“Is Anne . . . ?” Kat trailed off, scared for her cousin.

Anna pulled her close and whispered softly to her then they both turned to head back into Anna’s room. She glanced back with an understanding expression.

Catherine and Cathy stood in the hallway, concern on both faces. Catherine tried to hide hers, but it was clear she was worried about Boleyn. Cathy gave a nod of encouragement to Jane, which helped ease herself.

_This isn’t the time to feel sorry. Anne Boleyn is hurting right now, she needs comfort, not pity._

Inhaling, Jane entered the room. The sight of before her crushed Jane’s heart. Boleyn was gasping in sobs and tearing at her bloody neck. Even though Jane’s instinct was to go straight to her, she didn’t want to rush it in fear of scaring her while she was having a panic attack.

So, she carefully approached the girl until she reached the bed.

“Anne? Anne, can you hear me?” She softly asked.

Jane sat on the bed (but left enough space in case) and placed a hand on Anne’s shoulder and another on her cheek, wiping away the tears. Then she turned Anne’s head to face her, blue eyes meeting wild green.

“Anne, love? I need you to breathe for me, okay? In . . . one, two, three. Out . . . one, two, three,” Jane repeated.

After what’s been like forever, Anne finally managed to properly breathe again, but she continued to scrape at her neck. Jane slowly moved her hands to Anne’s, gently grabbing her wrists, and pulled them away to prevent further damage, then held Anne’s hands in hers on the mattress.

“H–hurts,” Anne croaked, followed by a few sniffles.

“I know,” Jane frowned, then brushed the sweat of her brow with her sleeve.

“Here,” a voice said from the doorway.

Jane turned her head to see Catherine holding a damp rag and a first aid kit. Jane smiled in thanks and motioned her to come in. Catherine calmly approached the two and handed Jane the rag.

“Hey, Anne? I’m going to clean you up a bit, alright?” Jane addressed.

Anne, who’s gaze stayed on their hands, made a small nod.

“Okay,” Jane whispered, then wiped off the blood and sweat.

Once she finished, Catherine gave her the bandages and Jane carefully put them around the scar. Catherine gathered the things then spoke.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” Catherine faintly smiled at Anne and Jane, who nodded.

“Thank you, Catherine,” Jane said.

Catherine bent over Anne, placed a hand on her shoulder, and kissed her on the forehead then walked out, closing the door.

Jane looked over Boleyn again. “Do you wish to be alone?”

Anne was silent for a moment, then shook her head.

“S–stay. Please,” she begged, voice hoarse from crying.

“Of course, love.”

Jane shifted her position to where her back’s against the wall, then Anne laid down against her, head on her chest with Jane’s arms wrapped around her. They stayed like that for a while, neither saying a word, the only noises were their breathing and Anne’s occasional sniffles.

Anne tried to use the sound of Jane’s heartbeat to keep her in the present, but her mind kept going back to the scaffold, to the crowd, to the sword, to–

“Hey, you’re okay. Breathe, Anne,” Jane’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She didn’t realize that her breathing picked up again. She closed her eyes and did the exercise Jane taught her.

“Good,” Jane said once Anne got it under control.

“Thanks,” she murmured. Jane tightened the hug in response.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jane tentatively asked.

Anne buried her head into her shirt. “Not now.” She mumbled.

“That’s alright. Take all the time you need. There’s absolutely no pressure.”

Neither knew how much time passed, but during it, the queens would separately visit, cracking the door open to say their condolences and offer any support. Which Anne greatly appreciated. Kat also brought in food, gave both of them a hug, then left.

Catherine, who was like the second mum of the group, ensured Jane that she had the house in check while she’s with Anne. Catherine was the next person (after Anne) Jane confessed to about her guilt, since they both had some beef with Anne in their past lives. Yet, Catherien was protective of Anne, and Jane thought that the Spaniard would blame her, but instead, Catherine only showed kindness and support to her.

_“I’m sure she’ll forgive you. It’s been 500 years anyway,” Catherine, the most forgiving person, reassured her._

_They were both sitting on Aragon’s bed (Jane came to discuss in private)._

_“I know. But that won’t change the guilt I feel,” Jane said, eyes downcast at her folded hands._

_“Maybe, though it takes time to heal, but you should at least try . . . Again,” Catherine encouraged. “Besides, you have me and the others if something goes wrong. We’re a family. We help each other.”_

_Jane lifted her head, making eye contact, and gave a small smile. “Thank you. And I will. I promise.”_

After what seemed like hours, Jane spoke.

“Anne?”

“Hm?”

“I want to say . . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that this happened to you.”

Anne lifted her head to look at Jane, confusion on her face.

“It’s not your fault,” she started to say but Jane shook her head.

“No, it is! Sort of . . .”

“What do you mean?” Anne furrowed her brows.

“I–“ Jane glanced away. “I’m part of the reason he fell out of love with you. I tipped his anger towards you. Yes, I loved him and wanted to be queen, but I never wished– I never wanted you to die like . . . Like that! No one should’ve gone through that kind of fate. But you did, and I’m responsible for some of it. Or maybe the beginning of it . . .”

“But you’re not. That was all Henry,” Anne said, her voice full of certainty.

“That doesn't make me any less guilty,” Jane whispered.

Anne frowned. “Jane. Guilty or not, I did and do not blame you, nor hate you for it. Besides, that’s in the past and I’ve already forgiven you with all that’s happened then. Sure, the beheading was awful and my circumstances weren’t the best, but I also had some fault in that, not gonna lie,” Anne casually joked.

Jane’s expression became conflicted.

Just as Jane did to her, Anne brought Jane’s face to look at hers then continued. “What I’m saying is. I forgive you. I don’t and won’t hold it against you. Heck, I love having you as a friend. And a mum. Uh, a mum friend!” Anne beamed. “I trust you with my life, and the others. And I see no point in hating you when you’ve clearly already been doing that to yourself” –Jane bit her lip and wanted to break eye contact, but didn’t– “So how about no more blaming yourself, alright? The only person we blame is that bastard.”

Jane’s eyes searched Anne’s for any sign of lies, but for once, Anne was sincere in what she said. Jane relaxed and smiled.

“How about this. No more blaming yourself and if you do, which I will find out, I will personally make sure that you are to never do it again. Deal?” Anne held out her pinky.

Jane’s lips curved up as she linked her pinky with Anne’s. “Deal.”

Anne’s smile grew. “Good. Now that that’s off our chests, I’ll like to go back to sleep.”

“I’m guessing I’m to stay?” Jane amused.

“Yup,” Anne perked, nuzzling closer.

“Alright,” Jane gave in, then kissed her on the head. “Anne? Thank you, for being you.”

Jane felt Anne grin on her chest. “Love you, Janey. Thanks for being here with me.”

“Anytime. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translation: précieux trésor – French: precious treasure
> 
> Lol this was kinda crap. I wrote this at midnight. Hope you enjoyed it!!  
> Stay well! Comment and Kudos!!
> 
> Edit: I deleted the “Aralyn” tag cause it was briefly there and also this is centered around Jane & Anne. Originally there was gonna be some more interaction of the two, but I decided against it.


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